His eyes twinkled with mischief as he handed the wine back to me. “About that sippy cup?”

“I don’t need one,” I responded with a ghost of a smile on my lips.

“Coulda fooled me.”

I took a sip and placed the glass on the table. Digging deep for the courage I’d need to bring up this subject, I dived in. “I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here.”

He nodded.

I started fingering the stem of the wineglass again, ignoring a dramatic gasp from him.

“Easton, there’s no easy way to say this.”

“Then just say it.” Life was simple like that to him. Black and white. No shades of gray. I, on the other hand, worried too much and fretted about upsetting others. There wasn’t any getting around this. He was going to be upset. “Or you could make a list?” he quipped with a teasing grin.

I didn’t smile back. I forced my gaze to meet his and blurted out the words, my carefully written speech all but forgotten. “You’re a father.”

He’d just brought his beer to his lips, and he choked on it. The glass slipped from his grasp, hit the edge of the table, and sprayed all over both of us before crashing to the ground and splintering into a million pieces. The attention of every patron in the place was drawn to our table, followed by gasps as the crowd recognized one of the newest members of their defending Stanley Cup champions.

Easton didn’t notice the mess or the gathering crowd of people. He gaped at me in utter, absolute shock. The staff rushed to clean up the mess, and I slid out of the booth so they could wipe it down. As the crowd converged on us, they blocked my view of Easton.

I took advantage of the chaos and bolted for freedom.

~~Easton~~

In the ensuing melee of fans begging for my autograph and staff scrubbing the booth and floor, I lost sight of Caro. When things finally calmed down, she was nowhere to be found.

She’d hit me with a bombshell and fled like the guilty party that she was. I had a child? I was a father?

I pushed past the remaining fans, tossed a fifty on the counter for my drinks and uneaten dinner, and dashed out the door. No sign of her in the parking lot. She was long gone.

Maybe her disappearance was for the best. I needed alone time to process my change in status from single guy with zero attachment to single father.

What the fuck?

Anger replaced confusion as I drove out of the bar parking lot. She’d dumped this on me and disappeared, offering no details. Did I have a son or a daughter? How old was he or she? How did Caro know I was the father? Why was she telling me this now?

I did the math in my head. My child should be around six years old. It’d been over seven years since that summer we spent together.